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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23980279">Stolen Child</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pantheris/pseuds/Pantheris'>Pantheris</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Warlord's Daughter [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Halo (Video Games) &amp; Related Fandoms</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(again of the familial sort), (of the familial sort), Adopted Children, Alien/Human Relationships, Aliens, Angst, Childhood Trauma, Enemies to Friends, Family Feels, Father-Daughter Relationship, Feels, Gen, Getting to Know Each Other, Interspecies Relationship(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Parent-Child Relationship, Science Fiction, accidental adoption</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 19:21:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>12,541</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23980279</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pantheris/pseuds/Pantheris</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Separated from her cohort at the age of eight, Jeanette-B315 has been sequestered away in an ONI black site for the past four years - until a Covenant incursion upends everything.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Warlord's Daughter [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1743544</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterXAssassin/gifts">WinterXAssassin</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <strong>Erebus-VII, ONI Beta-5 Division site "Armitage," 2544</strong>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>The armorers were late.</em>
</p>
<p>Jeanette-B315 had been waiting patiently for them to come fetch her, when the power had gone out.</p>
<p>At first, she'd paid it no mind - parts of the facility had suffered power outages during particularly severe storms before. The auxiliary power would kick in in sixty seconds or so...</p>
<p>So she'd sat on her cot, in the smothering dark, with nothing but her own breathing to break the silence of her buffered, soundproof cell - not-so-affectionately referred to as "The Box" by her handlers - as she counted down the passing of a minute that felt like an eternity.</p>
<p>Sixty seconds passed, and still the darkness persisted.</p>
<p>She dug her fingertips into the thin mattress and kept counting.</p>
<p>One hundred and twenty seconds passed.</p>
<p>Then one hundred and eighty.</p>
<p>Then two hundred and forty.</p>
<p>With each passing minute, a sense of unease grew in her chest.</p>
<p>
  <em>Three hundred seconds.</em>
</p>
<p>At the five minute mark, Jeanette rose to her feet and turned to press her face to the glass wall behind her. It was mirrored, so they could see in but she couldn't easily see out; but in the dark, with her eyes close to the glass, she could <em>just</em> make out her surroundings.</p>
<p>And she could see <em>nothing</em> in the vast chamber outside. No flashing warning lights, no emergency illumination, not even a single flashlight beam. Nothing and no one moved.</p>
<p>The creeping realization that she was utterly alone in the dark, in a locked and airtight cell, with seemingly no one coming for her sent a sharp stab of panic through her chest. Immediately, however, she shoved the panic down again, and turned to regard the door - normally, it was held shut by a powerful hydraulic locking system, but if the power was out, then there was nothing maintaining the pressure, so...</p>
<p>Without hesitation, Jeanette threw herself at the door, shoving her shoulder against it as she braced her legs and <em>pushed</em>.</p>
<p>The door, of course, did not give.</p>
<p>Neither did she.</p>
<p>Bending her knees further, she pressed herself to the unyielding metal and pushed harder, using all the force she could muster. The soles of her boots squeaked and skidded on the metal tile, but she just continued to reposition herself as she urged the door up. And slowly, bit by bit, the bulk began to move upwards in its frame...</p>
<p>
  <em>All she had to do was break the seal, that was all, that was all...</em>
</p>
<p>After what felt like hours of struggling, the door's bottom edge finally breached the floor-level seal, and with an audible <em>sighing</em> sound it lurched up another few inches. Fresh, cool air flooded in as she collapsed to her knees - she hadn't even realized how warm and stuffy the Box had gotten in the few minutes since the power had cut - and for a few moments all Jeanette could do was sit back on her heels, panting.</p>
<p>Then, with renewed vigor, she hooked her fingers under the edge of the door and pulled. Its seal was broken, but the door itself was still <em>immensely</em> heavy, and forcing it up required significant effort.</p>
<p>Soon enough, though, she'd made enough of a gap that she could twist around and wiggle underneath on her back, using her newfound leverage to push it higher. </p>
<p>She only needed a couple of inches more in order to slip all the way through-</p>
<p>A sudden hint of motion from the corner of her eye caught her attention, and Jeanette turned her head, only to freeze when she saw a group of shadowy figures emerge from one of the darkened corridors and step out into the monitoring area...</p>
<p>At first she thought they must have been her handlers, come to retrieve her before she suffocated - and for a split second, she thought she might be in trouble for forcing the door open.</p>
<p>But only for a second, because she realized just as quickly that her handlers would be carrying flashlights, and these figures moved in the <em>dark</em>. They seemed much too large, as well - too tall, too bulky, even for armored humans. As Jeanette watched, they crossed the open floor and resolved from the deep shadows, and she felt a surge of visceral alarm when she finally recognized the distinct profiles of five <em>Elites</em>. </p>
<p>In a hurried rush to escape her awkward entrapment, her hands slipped, and the bulk of the door slid down to rest on her midsection, pinning her to the floor. </p>
<p>She was left scrambling, then, as one of the pack drew ahead of the rest - and approached the Box.</p>
<p>Baring her teeth at him, Jeanette let out a wordless snarl; of course, he wasn't at <em>all</em> fazed; one of his entourage growled something impatient-sounding, and he simply rumbled back a short reply as he reached out, taloned fingers curling around the door's emergency handle. Jeanette was certain that she was about to die. All he would have had to do was push down, and the weight of the door would crush her. Briefly, she wondered how badly it would hurt, and for how long...</p>
<p>Her surprise was almost palpable when, instead of using it to crush her vulnerable body, the Elite pulled <em>up</em> on the handle, lifting the door and freeing her.</p>
<p>In the blink of an eye, she launched herself away from the Elite, rolling to her feet and backing up against the far wall of her cell - and <em>he</em> ducked his head and stepped inside, as well. Within the cramped confines of the Box, she was able to discern that he was <em>massive</em>, far bigger than any Elite she'd been trained against so far; even at an angle, his broad shoulders filled the door frame, and he had to hold his head low to keep his helmet's horns from dragging along the ceiling. And even from several paces back, she had to crane her neck to look up - <em>and up, and up</em> - at him.</p>
<p>Was he playing with her? Taking his time before he killed her? She had no way of knowing; his face was obscured by his elaborate helmet, but she could feel him watching her regardless.</p>
<p>He said nothing; <em>she</em> said nothing.</p>
<p>Her gaze flickered between him, the open door, and back - and in a heartbeat, she made the only decision that seemed reasonable.</p>
<p>Bolting forwards, she dropped into a slide and skidded across the floor between his feet. Then, before he could even begin to turn, she lunged back to her feet and into a dead sprint across the room, dodging past the other four Elites on her way towards the exit. In the space of only a few seconds, the darkness burst into chaos as they scrambled to intercept her, shouting amongst one another - with the loudest shouts no doubt coming from the one she assumed was their <em>leader</em>.</p>
<p>A stampede of heavy footfalls thundered in her wake as she exited the chamber and ran headlong down the darkened corridor. The dark didn't hamper her, though; even if she <em>hadn't</em> possessed exceptional low-light vision thanks to her augmentations, she knew these corridors so well that she could have navigated them <em>blindfolded</em>. </p>
<p>This was the route to the training facilities.</p>
<p>And beyond those, the laboratories and medical facilities.</p>
<p>Somewhere beyond even those, there had to be a way <em>out</em> of this place.</p>
<p>She just had to evade capture long enough to <em>find</em> it.</p>
<p>Someone behind her lunged - she could hear the change in the cadence of their footsteps - and she ducked just in time to feel the rush of air behind a missed swipe that would have sent her careening into the wall if it had connected. Cursing to herself, Jeanette surged ahead even harder than before, doing her damnedest to stay even one step ahead.</p>
<p>And then the doors to the training wing loomed ahead, hanging half-open; she barely even slowed down as she slid through the narrow gap - but the Elites behind her found themselves slamming into the barrier at full speed, forcing the doors half off their tracks and then wasting valuable seconds wresting them open far enough to squeeze through. By the time the first of the group had gotten inside, she was already past the first of the two live-fire facilities on that level, and well on her way past the second.</p>
<p>She could hear them bellowing angrily, seemingly barking orders, but she paid little heed to them as she slipped through the next set of security doors - and this time, she had enough of a head start to turn, and drag them shut behind her.</p>
<p>It might have bought her only a few extra seconds, but that was all she needed to duck through what looked like a small security office, and into a smaller corridor on the other side.</p>
<p>Closing the doors behind herself, she vanished into a quiet darkness.</p>
<p>Slowing her headlong sprint to an easy trot, Jeanette squeezed through every half-open door she came across until she had meandered far from the environments she was most familiar with. Soon, even the distant sounds of pursuit faded away, leaving nothing but a ringing silence. There was no sign of staff or security - she couldn't even hear the sound of <em>gunfire</em>, and she would have expected <em>at least</em> that much, given the situation.</p>
<p>But the whole facility was eerily quiet.</p>
<p>
  <em>Was everyone already dead?</em>
</p>
<p>Peering into the murky darkness, she sidled up to the wall and stealthily crept through the winding halls, pausing every now and then to listen for any lurking threats.</p>
<p>Soon enough Jeanette realized that the dark was gradually lightening to a fuzzy gray - she must have been close to the building's exterior, and therefore <em>windows</em>. Maybe even <em>doors</em>. And those things meant <em>escape</em>. Feeling a tinge of hopeful excitement, she picked up her pace again, padding down the hallway towards the brightening light.</p>
<p>She passed empty labs, left in disarray with dark sprays and smears that could only have been <em>blood</em> on the walls and windows, their equipment in disarray and doors broken and hanging open. Once, she thought she'd glimpsed a limp arm laid out across an aisle; she didn't stop to take a closer look. Instead, she ducked her head and trotted past. Whatever had happened, had happened quickly... or maybe it hadn't been <em>quick</em> at all, and the Elites had been here, hidden, killing quickly and silently, for <em>hours</em>. She had no way of knowing, and she didn't fancy finding one of them to ask.</p>
<p>Finally, after what felt like ages, she came across a large, open room full of tables and odd items that didn't look at all like laboratory equipment - and a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows.</p>
<p>Jeanette felt a surge of hope.</p>
<p>If she could just get out of one of those windows, she could escape into the forest, and even the <em>Covenant</em> wouldn't be able to find her then. Maybe she could even find her way back to Camp Currahee, and alert them to the intrusion.</p>
<p>
  <em>Maybe this time, Kurt would protect her.</em>
</p>
<p>The door creaked softly as she pushed it open, and her footsteps echoed faintly in the still air.</p>
<p>She'd never been in such a place, and she'd lost her pursuers, so for a few moments she let her curiosity get the better of her. First, she prowled over to a long counter - one with a sink and a collection of mugs arranged along the backsplash, and a little appliance full of a dark liquid in a glass pitcher. Pulling that out, she sniffed at the contents; they smelled rich and bitter and an exploratory sip of the stuff made her grimace. It was cold and tasted as bitter as it smelled... and yet she still found herself downing half the pitcher. Further exploration yielded a refrigeration unit full of various containers of food that Jeanette took a few minutes to browse.</p>
<p>She hadn't even realized how <em>hungry</em> she was until she had the opportunity to eat, however brief.</p>
<p>After wolfing down the contents of several small containers, she finally made her way to the bank of windows. Outside was a flat tarmac bordered by a tall wire fence. On the other side of <em>that</em>, was a dense forest of unfamiliar towering, coiling, vine-swathed trees that reached up into a low bank of rain-heavy clouds.</p>
<p>Jeanette felt her heart sink, and her stomach twisted into knots as her admittedly flimsy plan came apart at the seams.</p>
<p>
  <em>This was not Onyx.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>That complicated things.</em>
</p>
<p>Furthermore, from her vantage point, she could see that the grounds were <em>swarming</em> with Covenant. There was no way she could climb down to safety, not without drawing unwanted attention.</p>
<p>She felt, more than heard, a roll of thunder as greenish lightning flickered through the clouds, and a chill settled into her blood. Realizing that she seriously needed to rethink her escape, she began to back slowly away from the windows.</p>
<p>Jeanette took three steps... and backed up against an obstacle that hadn't been there before.</p>
<p>Anyone else might have screamed, but not her.</p>
<p>With a sharp gasp, she twisted and vaulted away, backing up to the windows as not one, but <em>three</em> Zealots uncloaked between her and the door.</p>
<p>Panic lanced through her like lightning and questions began racing through her mind - <em>how had she not heard them come in? Did active camouflage dampen sound? She didn't think it did, but when had she ever encountered it? Even the armored Elites she'd been tested against hadn't had active camo...</em></p>
<p>Jeanette swallowed hard and shoved the mental noise aside as she pressed her back to the cold glass, sizing up her would-be assailants - and hoping that the prospect of a several-story drop would make them reluctant to simply lunge headlong for her.</p>
<p>The three Zealots formed a loose barrier between her and the door, staggered in such a way that evading one would put her in reach of another. And, like a net, they were drawing in around her, advancing carefully and watching even her slightest move like hawks. Even the most minimal shift in her stance seemed to draw a response. Oddly enough, though, none of it was openly <em>hostile</em>; she knew that if they'd simply wanted to <em>kill</em> her, she would have already been dead.</p>
<p>That left only <em>one</em> possibility, and it terrified her more than the thought of dying there.</p>
<p>They wanted to <em>capture</em> her. To take her back to... <em>wherever</em> they worked from and cut her open and take her apart and-</p>
<p>And she could <em>not</em> let that happen.</p>
<p>In the blink of an eye, Jeanette surged forward, feinting to the right and then feinting even harder to the left before darting to the center, right under the middle Zealot's attempt to snatch her off her feet. A dive under the nearest table thwarted a second grab, though she found herself rolling out of the way when the Elite flung the obstacle out of the way in frustration and pounced after her like a hunting cat. With barely a moment to catch a breath, she shoved herself <em>back</em> to her feet and vaulted the next table before grabbing the back of a chair and hoisting it like a weapon.</p>
<p>One of the Zealots had beaten her to the door, and at the sight of her brandishing a chair, it let out a sound like a guttural, rumbling laugh.</p>
<p>Then Jeanette <em>swung</em> as hard as she could - right for the corridor window. </p>
<p>If she couldn't escape the building from <em>this</em> room, she would just retreat back into the dark and find <em>another</em> way out.</p>
<p>The window shattered with an ear-splitting sound, and glass sprayed across the corridor. Jeanette didn't even hesitate to launch herself towards and <em>through</em> the new opening, feeling razor-sharp shards biting into her palms as she clambered over - only to find herself snatched up, hauled into the air by her shirt and flung back into the room. Squeezing her eyes shut, she braced for impact, but it never came. Instead, she found herself caught by the arm, and lifted up until she was face-to-face with an angry Zealot.</p>
<p>He bared his teeth in a rattling snarl, and she reflexively lashed out, clawing at his eyes with her free hand and then, when he moved to hold her out of range, swinging her legs up to <em>kick</em> at his neck and face.</p>
<p>One particularly fierce kick hit the Elite squarely in the mouth, forcing his head back and dislodging several teeth with an audible <em>crunch</em>. Indigo blood splattered her trousers and his gleaming armor. As he cursed her in that growling language of theirs, Jeanette writhed around until she was in range of the hand gripping her upper arm... and closed her teeth around one taloned finger, biting down as hard as she could.</p>
<p>She didn't know if the Zealot's bellow was one of <em>rage</em> or <em>pain</em>, or both, but it was satisfying nonetheless.</p>
<p>Only a moment later, though, her back hit a wall - an actual, interior wall, rather than the window glass - hard enough to knock the breath from her lungs and momentarily stun her. Jeanette briefly went limp, gasping for air as stars bubbled up and burst in her field of vision.</p>
<p>The Elite <em>roared</em>, spraying her face and hair with thin spatters of dark blood.</p>
<p>Sucking in a sharp breath, she <em>screamed</em> back, baring her teeth defiantly.</p>
<p>Then, the door to the room was wrenched open <em>backwards</em>, its hinges screeching in protest as the force warped and tore the flimsy metal; yanked thusly out of its frame, it was tossed aside, and she could hear it clatter and scrape down the corridor... as the giant Elite from the observation area ducked in.</p>
<p>"That will be <em>quite enough</em>," he growled in perfect English, his voice like thunder as he scowled down at her like she was just some<em> errant child</em> getting underfoot.</p>
<p>"<em>Ta gueule</em>!" Jeanette spat back, squirming once more in the Zealot's grip, but he held firm. </p>
<p>The towering Elite tilted his head curiously, and he crossed over to them in three long strides. When he reached out to catch hold of her jaw, she jerked her head back and tried to bite <em>him</em>, as well; he deftly avoided her snapping teeth, and caught her firmly under the chin, tilting her head back and leaning in close as if studying her, though his expression was unreadable. A <em>huff</em> of hot breath blew strands of hair back from her face; she just wrinkled her nose with a <em>hiss</em>.</p>
<p>"...Interesting."</p>
<p>Before Jeanette could demand an explanation, he'd plucked her out of the Zealot's grasp and tucked her under his own arm. Then, ignoring her kicking and squirming and snarling, he strode across the room, drew his sword...</p>
<p>There was flash of blue-white light, followed by the sharp hot smell of melting glass, and then suddenly they were <em>falling</em>, wind and rain whipping at her face.</p>
<p>And this time, Jeanette <em>did</em> scream.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She squeezed her eyes shut as the ground rushed up to meet them, their descent being slowed only by the drag caused by the sword biting into concrete and steel.</p><p>A few seconds later - seconds that felt like an eternity in near-freefall - they hit the ground with a <em>thud</em> that she <em>felt</em> more than she heard, the impact knocking the breath from her lungs a second time and sending up stars that burst behind her eyelids. Her stomach lurched, and her head rang like a bell, too; she just <em>knew</em> she was going to have a splitting headache later...</p><p>Assuming she <em>lived long enough</em>, at any rate.</p><p>They were halfway across the tarmac before Jeanette's senses cleared enough to even register that they were moving again. Gasping and squirming once more in her captor's grasp, she managed to free one arm and twist herself around so that she was dangling upside-down in the crook of his elbow. From there, she brought her feet up to dig her toes into the spaces in his armor, and <em>pushed</em> as hard as she could manage, kicking at him and shoving against his arm with her free hand.</p><p>He'd largely ignored her squirming up until that point, but once she managed to start kicking, he let out an irritated-sounding <em>huff</em> and reached over with his own free hand to grab the back of her neck. In one fluid, dizzying movement, he shifted her so that she was slung over his shoulder with her legs pinned firmly against his chestplate, and no amount of pushing or writhing or <em>cursing</em> earned her any wiggle room.</p><p>Feeling free to ignore her struggling now, the Elite turned to his three Zealots - <em>she hadn't noticed them trailing behind until then, had they jumped from the window, too?</em> - and sharply snapped what sounded like a series of orders, gesturing with his free hand. The trio bowed, pressing closed fists to their chests before dispersing to carry out whatever orders they'd been given. One - the Zealot she'd kicked in the mouth - lingered a step behind his comrades, however, and fixed her with a brief, baleful glare before slinking off. Jeanette just wrinkled her nose and snarled after him, then gave her captor one last frustrated <em>thump</em> on the back with a closed fist before ceasing her futile struggles - for the moment, at least.</p><p>Panting slightly, and doing her best to ignore the subtle pounding in her head and the stinging pain in her palms, she instead propped herself up to look around.</p><p>The sections of the facility grounds that she could see were pockmarked and plasma-scarred, and the first few stories of the nearest building were likewise marred with sooty black splashes. Despite the downpour, smoke still curled up from some of the scars, indicating that they were still relatively fresh. Here and there, she could see the remnants of human resistance - scattered weapons, a few broken bodies, pools of blood slowly washing away in the steady rain...</p><p>Obviously there had been a fight, and obviously it had not lasted long.</p><p>Jeanette looked away.</p><p>She then craned her neck to peer over her shoulder; upon seeing that she was being carried towards some kind of craft, she felt the panic surging in her chest again.</p><p>
  <em>She didn't <strong>want</strong> to be taken away, not like this. Not by <strong>these</strong> people.</em>
</p><p>With renewed vigor, she began her struggle anew, pulling and pushing and scrabbling for whatever leverage she could get, but it was all in vain.</p><p>With an almost startling agility, the Elite deftly climbed up to the craft's open cockpit, and she found herself dropped and deposited none too gently onto the seat. But before she could scramble away and bolt, he'd settled himself behind her, pinning her against himself with one forearm as the canopy <em>slammed</em> shut overhead, plunging them into darkness - for a split second, before the cramped, suffocating interior lit up with blinding neon blue.</p><p>"Hold. Still," he growled in warning.</p><p>And then the craft shuddered, and lurched, and gravity seemed to fall away.</p><p>Jeanette did not move; she barely even <em>breathed</em>. Her mind, however, <em>raced</em>. She was trapped in here, by and <em>with</em> a giant carnivorous alien whose intentions towards her were entirely unknown... but she could only think of two reasons for a member of the Covenant to steal a Spartan, even one as young as herself.</p><p>Either he intended, as she'd initially feared, to dissect her - or he was simply <em>hungry</em>.</p><p>A thin, strained whine escaped her throat. She was going to <em>die</em>. She had no weapons or armor and there was no way she was going to be able to escape from a <em>Covenant warship</em> and <em>she was going to die</em>-</p><p>"Do cease that infernal noise," The Elite rumbled, his voice tinged with exasperation, "piloting is taxing enough without an incessant <em>whine</em> in my ear."</p><p>"Maybe you should have <em>left</em> me, then!" Jeanette hissed back, almost shocking herself with her reply; but she immediately stopped to consider the fact that manners were meaningless in this situation. They weren't going to keep her alive, so why bother with them?</p><p>She bit back any further invective, though. Instead, she simply hunkered down as far as she could with a frustrated growl; none too subtly, she dug her elbows into his midsection, unable to do much else.</p><p>"The idea had occurred to me, I will admit," he growled back sourly, either not feeling her jabs or not responding to them. "Unfortunately for both of us, I opted to <em>keep</em> you, and it is far too late to go back on that decision."</p><p>Once more, the claustrophobic little cockpit lapsed into silence, as the recycled air rapidly grew stale and the tension in her little body rapidly grew unbearable. She wanted to lash out, to kick and bite and strike and run, but there was barely any room to move. At least she could take some small comfort in the fact that her captor was as uncomfortable as she was...</p><p>The minutes seemed to stretch into hours, before the craft gave a gentle and almost imperceptible shudder and fell still once more.</p><p>Then the canopy hissed open, flooding the cabin with cool light and warm air.</p><p>Her first instinct was to try to bolt, but the Elite was already hauling her up under his arm as he rose to dismount, tucking her firmly against his side. This frustrated Jeanette's desire to flee, but it certainly didn't stop her from <em>struggling</em> - and struggle she did, throwing all of the energy she had left into a last-ditch effort to squirm free.</p><p>She had no idea what she was going to do if she <em>did</em> manage to free herself, but the imperative was there, regardless. </p><p>Even if it was, ultimately, fruitless.</p><p>She hardly paid attention as she was carted like an armful of gear across the immense hangar bay and into a wide, winding corridor. He remained steadfastly unfazed by her kicking and cursing as he strode past numerous identical doors, through the twists and turns of seemingly endless halls; she tired out <em>long</em> before he did, finally just going limp in his grasp.</p><p>It felt like it had been a whole day since she'd escaped her holding cell, though it couldn't have possibly been more than a couple of hours. Such a ridiculously short stretch of time, and yet she was profoundly exhausted. It had to be the aftermath of the adrenaline rush, she reasoned wearily; the inevitable crash that always followed the swell...</p><p>Eventually, he stepped into what appeared to be, for all intents and purposes, an open shaft, and Jeanette's adrenaline surged again; she couldn't reach out to grab on to anything, though, all she could do was reflexively curl in on herself with a startled sound.</p><p>And then her stomach dropped as they were swept <em>upwards</em>, defying gravity.</p><p>She felt like she was going to be sick; squeezing her eyes shut tight, she fought down the sensation.</p><p>Once the feverish dizziness had passed, Jeanette cracked one eye open to see that they were on solid ground once more, proceeding at an easy pace down another corridor that was functionally identical to all the others before it. Feeling too exhausted and exasperated to try to keep track - after all, what good was that going to do? she was trapped here now and <em>she was going to die</em> - she just let her head fall, closing her eyes and whining plaintively.</p><p>Then, there was a pause, she heard the <em>swish</em> of doors opening, and felt her captor's stride slow and his grip on her loosen and she realized, with a sinking sense of dread, that they must have arrived at their destination.</p><p>Almost as soon as she opened her eyes, the world around her was blurring into a muddled blur. It wasn't from the lack of strong lighting - Jeanette's eyes needed no time at all to adjust to the dimness - but more the speed at which her physical orientation was changing paired with the relative... <em>lack</em> of physical details around her.</p><p>And then, suddenly, she was no longer restrained, and was landing very nearly chin-first on something semi-soft and yielding. Reflexively, she dug her fingertips into the velvety material and clambered away, neither noticing nor <em>caring</em> <em>about</em> what she might be heading towards. At the same time, she pushed her upper body up, flinging her weight to the right as she turned over onto her back - or, rather, <em>attempted</em> to. Because as soon as she did that, her hand found not the solid ground she'd been expecting, but empty space.</p><p>Once again, she was at gravity's mercy as she toppled to the side, and landed in a tangle on the floor.</p><p>Her elbow and shoulder smarted from the impact, but she paid the sensation no heed as she righted herself and scrambled back, eyes immediately seeking out her captor.</p><p>He stood a short distance away, arms crossed over his chest as he watched her impassively. His expression was hard to read, but there seemed to be a hint of curiosity - or maybe <em>amusement</em>.</p><p>"You're certainly <em>spirited</em> enough," he finally said, tilting his head, "but you're neither as coordinated, nor as <em>imposing</em> as I'd been expecting from a <em>Demon</em>."</p><p>Yes, he certainly seemed amused by all this. And what did he mean, "<em>demon</em>?"</p><p>"I am no <em>demon</em>! I am <em>twelve</em>!" Jeanette blurted out defensively, voice cracking and rising an octave - and that certainly seemed to catch his attention, as his head tilted back in the opposite reaction and his posture straightened slightly.</p><p>"You are... <em>what</em>?" He asked incredulously.</p><p>"I-" Jeanette found herself faltering, "...I think?"</p><p>"You <em>think</em>."</p><p>Now she mentally kicked herself.</p><p>"I do not know how long I was in that place!" Another outburst, but instead of faltering this time, she let herself be angry and frustrated and afraid. "And why does it matter? You are only going to kill me, anyway!"</p><p>"You think that I intend to <em>kill</em> you?" </p><p>He let his arms drop to his sides and took a step forward, his boot clunking heavily on the tiled floor. Jeanette's instinctive response was to scramble away, but without anywhere to go she found herself seeking shelter in the narrow space between the wall and the end of the bench she'd been dropped on. It hardly qualified as "cover," but it still provided <em>some</em> measure of security - even if it was entirely an illusion. </p><p>This <em>was</em> a Covenant ship, after all.</p><p>The Elite stopped only a couple of steps away, and knelt down to regard her curiously once more; she bristled and bared her teeth, drawing back as far as she could and gathering herself as if to spring. But although he loomed over her, he made no further moves towards her, he simply rested his forearms on his knee and cocked his head.</p><p>"...What an odd little thing you are," he murmured after a long moment, seemingly more to himself than to her.</p><p>Then, without another word, he rose back to his feet and turned away. There was the sound of heavy footsteps, followed by the <em>hiss</em> of the door opening and closing as he swept out of the room... and then, silence.</p><p>Jeanette didn't know how long she remained frozen in place after she was left alone. It could have been one minute, or five, or even ten, and her churning mind wouldn't have noticed.</p><p>What was happening? What was <em>going</em> to happen? She'd been <em>so sure</em> that she was going to die, but now that <em>wasn't</em> such an obvious outcome - she might <em>still</em> die, yes, but it no longer felt like a given. So what was going to happen to her? Was she going to be tortured? Turned over to someone else? She didn't know, and she hated not knowing...</p><p>Not knowing frightened her more than anything else.</p><p><em>Look at you,</em> she chastised herself, <em>scared of shadows and hiding in a corner like a child.</em></p><p>
  <strong><em>I </em>am <em>a child.</em></strong>
</p><p>
  <em>You are a <strong>Spartan</strong>.</em>
</p><p>At least, that's what she'd been <em>meant</em> to be, wasn't it? A Spartan, fearless and fierce...</p><p>She didn't <em>feel</em> particularly fearless or fierce at that moment, though.</p><p>Finally, she took a breath to steady herself, and peeked out into the room, making certain that it was empty before she dared to venture out, uncurling from her hiding place and rising unsteadily to her feet.</p><p>And for the first time, she was able to get a proper look at her surroundings.</p><p></p><div class="">
  <p>The floor was black stone, finely veined with delicate webs of white and gold, with a path bounded by narrow golden tiles that lead from the door to the entrance of another chamber on the far side of the room. The area she was in seemed to be some sort of sitting area, furnished with wide, cushioned benches - including the one she'd been dropped on - on either side of a low table. And, perhaps most fascinatingly, there were <em>plants</em>; <em>live </em>plants in large, heavy spherical containers - two flanking the door, another against the wall situated between the two benches, and four more across the room, arranged around some kind of small fountain built into the wall there.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>She didn't think she'd ever seen plants <em>indoors </em>before, to say nothing of on board a <em>starship</em>.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>For a moment Jeanette let her fingers brush over the leathery green leaves of the nearest one, before cautiously moving on.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The whole... living space - it certainly didn't seem to be any sort of <em>prison cell</em> - was laid out like a half-circle, far larger and more luxurious than anything she'd ever seen before, except perhaps the live-fire ranges at the facility.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Even just the thought of that place twisted her stomach now; she still couldn't understand why she'd seemingly been <em>abandoned </em>there, why the whole building had been so very empty and the evidence of conflict so scarce... it just didn't make <em>sense</em>. There had been <em>hundreds </em>of personnel there, and yet...</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>...and yet...</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>With a sharp shake of her head, Jeanette shoved those thoughts aside; they were pointless now. Whatever had happened, had happened, and there was nothing she could do and no one she could ask about it.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>Best to focus on the matter at hand.</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>After she'd gotten her scattered wits back in order, she resumed her exploration, mentally mapping out the layout of the room, from the sitting area to the open entryway with its softly gurgling water feature, all the way to the shadowy chamber at the back.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>It was there that she hesitated, peering warily into the darkness for a heartbeat before venturing in.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>This room wasn't as open as the living area, and was outfitted with a single broad bed, a tall wardrobe, an equally tall mirror, and a low-set, long chest of drawers. The bed’s mattress was thick, with a slight give to it; the pillows were likewise thick and dense, obviously made for non-human heads and necks, and both bed and pillows were made up with heavy, smooth fabric coverings and sheets beneath a luxuriously soft quilted blanket.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>It was a far cry from the thin, hard cot and scratchy sheet she'd grown accustomed to. She almost felt envious.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The next thing that drew her attention wasn't the elaborately-framed mirror or the wardrobe that was almost big enough for her to sleep in, but the chest of drawers - or, rather, what sat <em>atop </em>it, neatly centered on its flat, smooth surface.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>A small, shallow, squareish ceramic dish, in which grew <em>another </em>plant.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>No, she corrected herself, a <em>very small <strong>tree</strong></em>.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The chest was just tall enough for her to rest her chin on as she leaned in close to examine this bewildering little thing. For a moment, she was almost certain that it was fake, but a curious poke showed that the soil in the dish was very real, and slightly damp, and the leaves were the same smooth, leathery texture as the plants in the living area. With the utmost gentleness, Jeanette reached up to run her fingertips over the springy branches and soft leaves, utterly fascinated.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>It was with great difficulty that she pulled herself away from the tiny tree, and resumed her exploration, moving through the dark towards yet another door.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>When she stepped through this one, she found herself blinking in surprise as an array of soft lights came on automatically, gently illuminating the space as they gradually brightened.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p><em>This </em>room was clearly a bathroom, that much was obvious. For all their differences, it seemed that Elites, at least, used similar facilities to humans - the sink and shower stall, both tiled in shades of green, were unmistakable, and the toilet was... odd, but recognizable as well. The rest of the room was tiled in deep blue, with  the tiles underfoot sporting a coarser texture than the tiles on the walls. Beside the shower was a rack, tiled in the same rich green as the stall itself, which held stacks of washcloths, rolled-up towels, and a selection of soaps which smelled pleasantly like burning wood, so unlike the overwhelmingly antiseptic-smelling stuff she'd once used...</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Once again, she felt envious.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>With a sigh, she turned to leave once more, noting how the washroom lights dimmed back to darkness after she stepped through the door.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>She left the bedroom, too, despite the intense temptation to curl up on the bed and sleep off the steady throbbing that had settled into her skull.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Stepping back out into the living area, Jeanette next found herself eying the door that led out into the corridor.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>What would happen if she opened it? <em>Could </em>she even open it? Where would she even go?</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Ever wary, she approached until she was standing right in front of it; it remained firmly closed... but there was a pad set into the wall to the left, and she reached up to tentatively tap at its glassy surface.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The door slid open with a <em>rush </em>of air that almost startled her, and for a moment she could only stare at the open portal.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>There was no freedom to be found beyond it, she knew that. She knew there was nowhere for her to run; even if she <em>did </em>somehow manage to make it back to the hangar, she didn't know how to <em>fly</em>.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>Still...</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Jeanette peeked around the doorframe, cautiously stepping through.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>And she immediately came face-to-face with what she could only describe as an <em>armored wall</em>. A sense of dread rose up in her gut as she looked up, <em>and up</em>, even further than she'd had to with the Elite. A thick, sickly-glistening "neck" that seemed to be made of twisted orange ropes protruded from a heavy collar near the top of the towering mass, and at the end of that neck was a blocky, bluish box like a head.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>As she watched, it swung towards her, fixing her with an array of brightly-glowing green "eyes" set into the metal and letting out a deep rumble that rattled the depths of her chest. She choked on a gasp as she reeled away from the massive <em>thing</em> - into <em>another </em>unyielding object. Wheeling around, she just barely registered a <em>second </em>creature, just as immense as the first, before she dove back into the room she'd left, only a breath before the door slid shut.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Her heart pounding deafeningly in her ears, Jeanette scrambled and lunged for the sheltered corner she never should have left. Huddling as far back into the corner as she could, she hugged her knees tightly to her chest and, too overwhelmed to do anything else, began to quietly sob.</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>If Khyl ‘Voramai had been at all religious, he would have <em>sworn </em>that he was being punished for some dire transgression.</p><p>Even so, he found himself pacing the width of the sparring grounds, wondering if, indeed, he’d managed to tread on some <em>divine </em>toes.</p><p>The day had started off promising enough: Even though the humans on this world had clearly known of the fleet’s impending arrival, <em>some</em> had dawdled about for so long that they’d made easy targets of themselves. The first ship to attempt to flee from his own had been picked off before it could leave the atmosphere, and the second had never even left its moorings. After that, there had been very little by way of resistance, and it had been handily dealt with by the Unggoy, giving him and his Zealots run of the facility.</p><p>Some of the remaining humans had been engaged in initiating a systems purge when his men had intervened, and they’d had a fair amount of time after that in which to rifle through the vast amounts of information before a lone straggler had managed to cut the power.</p><p>But in that stretch of time, they’d uncovered a tantalizing tidbit of information: There was a <em>Spartan </em>in this facility.</p><p>Khyl had, of course, considered all of the possibilities and ramifications. No Demon had ever been captured by the Covenant, dead <em>or</em> alive, and to be the first to accomplish such a feat would certainly earn him a great deal of renown - and, with that, <em>power</em>. And that was just for bringing in a corpse; a <em>live</em> captive would almost certainly make him a <em>legend</em>.</p><p>Of course, there was also a <em>very real </em>possibility that the Demon had been aboard one of the ships they’d destroyed… but it <em>also </em>could have still been planetside.</p><p><em>It would be well worth the time spent searching, </em>he’d thought.</p><p>So he’d taken his Zealots and gone to the center of the compound, where he had hoped to find one of the humans’ near-legendary war machines.</p><p>What he’d <em>found</em>, though, was a little sliver of a human female wiggling her way out from beneath some kind of cell door.</p><p><em>“You should kill it,” </em>Xul had growled… and Khyl had been tempted to, for the briefest of moments. But he’d quickly refused, reasoning that this wasn’t the setback it seemed - a Demon without its armor was still a Demon, was it not?</p><p>He’d had no idea how accurate that assessment would prove to be; once freed, she’d bolted and led his Zealots on a merry chase through the darkened corridors, quick and agile as a quillick and just as unhindered by the lack of light and just as <em>impossible to catch</em>. Only the fact that she’d been distracted by <em>food</em>, and clumsily allowed herself to be cornered had given them the opportunity to capture her - and even then, she’d put up a remarkable fight for one so small.</p><p>Xul had lost a few teeth, and would no doubt sulk about that for <em>days</em>, but such was a small price to pay for the prize they’d acquired.</p><p>Or so he’d hoped.</p><p>He was starting to second-guess himself, now.</p><p><em>Twelve. She’d said she was <b>twelve</b>. </em>Khyl had certainly faced plenty of youthful humans on his various battlefields, but none had been <em>children</em>. Humans simply didn’t <em>allow </em>children to do such things. And yet…</p><p>
  <em>And yet there is a Demon-child huddled in a corner of your living quarters at this very moment.</em>
</p><p>He couldn’t present a <em>child </em>to the <em>Prophets</em>; they would never believe that she was one of the humans’ Spartans, and he would almost certainly lose his head for “trying to make fools of them.” Nor could he just <em>kill </em>her - he <em>could</em>, but it would mean having wasted valuable time and resources, and he simply would not stand for that.</p><p>Feeling increasingly frustrated with the situation he’d gotten himself into, Khyl laid into the nearest training dummy.</p><p>He wasn't even entirely aware of the force he was using until one well-placed blow broke it in two, its top half falling to the floor with a clatter, bouncing twice before coming to rest a short distance away.</p><p></p><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="">
    <p><em>What a perfect summary of the day thus far,</em> he thought with a huff.</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>"Egiri thought you might be here," a voice came from behind him, breaking the silence; "or perhaps it was Nigatu - I'll admit that I <em>do </em>have difficulty telling the two of them apart."</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Khyl's shoulders tensed as he turned towards the speaker, pressing his fist to his chest as he bowed. "Shipmaster 'Raxanee, my apologies. I did not hear you approaching."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I noticed." Xar 'Raxanee regarded him with a critical eye, as if assessing him. "Is something troubling you, Field Marshal? You aren't usually so easily caught off-guard."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p><em>You have no idea, </em>Khyl thought sourly - though he kept that to himself.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"It has been an... <em>unusual </em>day," he admitted, carefully considering his words; "not at all what I anticipated when I set out."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Hm." The Shipmaster's mandibles worked soundlessly for a moment as he mulled over Khyl's words, then he motioned for him to follow, nodding towards the door. "Come, walk with me. I meant to discuss your mission with you, anyway."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Of course." He nodded once, falling into step with Xar as the elder turned to leave the training grounds; the two Sangheili lapsed into a companionable silence for a little while, merely walking alongside one another. The corridors were largely empty, and the few crew members they happened to encounter respectfully stepped aside, lowering their heads in deference.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Ora 'Iskanee was a bit put out that you left the battlefield so quickly," the Shipmaster eventually said, a touch of amusement to his gravelly voice. "He thought it an <em>insult</em>, that you were relegating him to managing the cleanup."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Khyl scoffed. "'Iskanee is a blustering idiot. Cleanup is about all he's good for, but he's deluding himself if he thinks that I was <em>relegating </em>him to anything. I left <em>my </em>Zealots in charge of the battlefield... if you could even call it that."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Oh?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"It was hardly a <em>battle</em>. Most of the humans were slaughtered when you burned their ships. Only a handful of stragglers remained in the compound itself, and they were easy kills. Disappointing, really."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Is that why you returned ahead of your men?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"No." Khyl's mandibles drew in tight, and he exhaled sharply - how was he to explain what he'd done? Would 'Raxanee understand, or would he condemn him for <em>heresy</em>? He weighed his options carefully - he had known the old Shipmaster for years, looked to him as a mentor and a friend, even a sort of father figure... but would that outweigh his actions?</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>You can't hide the child forever, you may as well be honest with him.</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"There was... something I had to secure, in a timely fashion," he continued hesitantly.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Go on."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>A dissatisfied rumble rose up in Khyl's chest. "Not here. This must be discussed somewhere private. I hope you understand, Shipmaster."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Now it was Xar's turn to draw in his mandibles, fixing him with an inscrutable sideways look. What was he thinking? <em>Surely he doesn't suspect...</em></p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"This must be quite valuable information, then." He said after a painfully long moment of deliberation. "Very well, let us discuss the matter in my suite, where inquisitive ears cannot overhear."</p>
  <p></p>
  <div class="">
    <p></p>
    <div class="">
      <p>The Shipmaster's suite was also guarded by a pair of Mgalekgolo, who rattled their spines and rumbled a greeting to Xar as they approached, though they largely ignored Khyl; they knew him well enough, true, but their loyalty was not to him. So long as he wasn't making himself a threat - or otherwise earning Xar's ire - he was beneath their notice.</p>
    </div>
    <div class="">
      <p>That was both a comfort, and a <em>concern</em>, considering what he was about to tell his Shipmaster.</p>
    </div>
    <div class="">
      <p>Regardless of their lack of attention, Khyl politely nodded to each of them in turn as he and Xar passed by.</p>
    </div>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>Inside, the suite was even grander than his own, as was fitting for a warrior of the Shipmaster's status. Normally, this didn't faze him, but at that particular moment it was a stark reminder of just how <em>badly </em>things could go for him.</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>Once the doors had closed and they were seated, he patiently weathered Xar's intense scrutiny, trying not to think of any of the terrible ways this could end.</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>"I must admit, Khyl, that you have me more than a little concerned," the Shipmaster spoke at length. "You and I have known one another for... a bit over ten years now, isn't it? And this behavior is highly uncharacteristic of you. What did you <em>find </em>on that planet that has disturbed you so?"</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>Khyl let out a heavy sigh, rattling his mandibles.</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>"A <em>Demon</em>," he replied, before quickly seeking to smooth over the inevitable backlash; "but it is - it is <em>not </em>what you might be expecting."</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>"Go on." Xar's expression didn't waver; Khyl wasn't sure if that was a good sign or not.</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>"She is a <em>child</em>, Xar." He exhaled sharply, giving his head a shake. "I believe we may have stumbled upon one of the places they train these warriors, but..."</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>"But...?"</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>"She was the only one present - at least, the only one we found a trace of. The humans had initiated a systems purge, however, and most of the relevant data was lost before we could stop it, so there is no way to know for certain now." His brow furrowed deeply. "I know I should have contacted you before bringing her aboard, but I... I have no excuse, and I will accept whatever punishment you deem fitting."</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>There was a long stretch of silence, during which Khyl couldn't bring himself to even look in his old friend's direction. To have admitted to such a damning thing was a heavy weight to bear... but still far lighter than keeping it concealed.</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>"Did you know this Demon was a child when you captured her?" Xar asked carefully.</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>"I knew she was <em>young</em>. I did not know precisely <em>how </em>young, however."</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>"I see. And you came to learn her precise age...?"</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>"When she told me, Shipmaster."</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>"And you feel there's no reason to doubt her truthfulness?"</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>"Not at all. She seemed quite taken aback when I <em>referred </em>to her as a Demon, and rather quickly rebutted with her age." He was still baffled by her response, and it showed in both his expression and his voice. "I was not entirely sure what to make of this information, and I needed time to process it before coming to you for a debriefing. Truth be told, however, I don't think the time I had was nearly enough."</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>"Hm." Xar leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and lacing his fingers together as he thought over what he'd just been told. "May I ask what your initial intentions were, before you learned of her tender age?"</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>Khyl just let out a frustrated rumble. "I had hoped to present her to the Hierarchs. No one has ever captured a Demon, and to be the first to accomplish this - well... Impressive deeds earn impressive rewards."</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>"Quite true. I assume, however, that this plan has changed?"</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>"Yes, but to <em>what </em>I am not sure." Khyl huffed softly, his tone heavily sardonic. "I don't think for a moment that the Hierarchs would believe that a <em>child </em>is one of her kind's most fabled warriors."</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>"Almost certainly not," Xar agreed. "This is quite the quandary you've gotten yourself into. But..."</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>His voice trailed off, and for the first time since their conversation had begun he hazarded a look in Xar's direction. The elder Sangheili seemed deep in thought, pale green eyes fixed on the tapestry that hung on the wall behind Khyl as he tapped a mandible with one talon.</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>"Perhaps... not so much a <em>quandary </em>as an <em>opportunity</em>," he slowly corrected himself, turning his gaze back to Khyl.</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>"Pardon?"</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>"The child is, as you said, only twelve. Now, my knowledge of humans is no doubt more limited than your own, but that seems quite a ways off from maturity, even for them."</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>"You would be correct," he hesitantly agreed, wondering what Xar was angling towards. "What are you suggesting, Shipmaster?"</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>"Is it not obvious?" There was a sly gleam in his friend's eye - and it became clear that he was <em>not </em>going to die that day. "I am <em>suggesting </em>that she could be brought into the Covenant's fold."</p>
    <p></p>
    <div class="">
      <p></p>
      <div class="">
        <p>"Surely you can't be <em>serious</em>?" Khyl asked incredulously; Xar just waved a dismissive hand.</p>
      </div>
      <div class="">
        <p>"I am quite serious," he replied. "Of course, how you go <em>about </em>it is entirely up to you..."</p>
      </div>
      <div class="">
        <p>Khyl blinked twice, bewildered - and then everything clicked into place as he realized what, <em>exactly</em>, the Shipmaster was doing</p>
      </div>
      <div class="">
        <p>
          <em>It's a cover story.</em>
        </p>
      </div>
    </div>
    <div class="">
      <p>A convenient lie he could tell anyone who questioned him, that would no doubt mollify all but the most persistent of questioners.  As for <em>those</em>... well, a blade was a sure silencer.</p>
    </div>
    <div class="">
      <p>With a thoughtful sound, he sat back and carefully regarded his friend for a long moment. It was compelling, this idea he'd been given. If he could perhaps stow the girl in a safe place for a few years, let her grow just a bit more... He could present the Hierarchs with a fully-fledged Spartan. One that might indeed be loyal, and of use to them, but it would no longer be his concern at that point.</p>
    </div>
    <div class="">
      <p>"I think you may be on to something, Xar," Khyl finally conceded; "you have my thanks."</p>
    </div>
    <div class="">
      <p>"Think nothing of it. Now," the Shipmaster cocked his head and regarded him with a keen eye; "what do you plan to <em>do </em>with the child?"</p>
    </div>
    <div class="">
      <p>He hesitated briefly, lapsing into thought once more. There <em>was </em>a place he could potentially leave her, that would be reasonably safe, if only...</p>
    </div>
    <div class="">
      <p>"Whispering Trees." He answered. "I know someone there who shouldn't require much convincing to look after her."</p>
    </div>
    <div class="">
      <p>"Oh?"</p>
    </div>
    <div class="">
      <p>"She is... an old friend, and already mother to a child not much older than this one. I don't believe she will turn the girl away."</p>
    </div>
    <div class="">
      <p>"And the Kaidon? And the rest of the Keep? What of them?"</p>
    </div>
    <div class="">
      <p>"I will <em>deal </em>with them," Khyl replied evenly, letting the unspoken implication hang in the air: <em>Either they will accept my explanation, or they will die.</em></p>
    </div>
    <div class="">
      <p>"I see. We've a plan, then." Xar clasped his hands and nodded slowly. "It will be some time before I can return you to your home, but I'm certain that the wait will be tolerable for you. In the meantime, I will... <em>quietly </em>disseminate the most pertinent information regarding the situation to the crew."</p>
    </div>
    <div class="">
      <p>"Are you sure that's wise?"</p>
    </div>
    <div class="">
      <p>"I've not gotten this far in life by being a fool or a weakling." Xar seemed almost taken aback, lifting his head and snorting derisively. "Besides, it's not as if you'll be able to keep your new charge hidden in your <em>quarters </em>for the next few months, nor would keeping her in the <em>brig</em> do much to instill any goodwill towards you. It would be better if she was allowed some freedom of movement, no?"</p>
    </div>
    <div class="">
      <p>"I... suppose you are correct. My apologies."</p>
    </div>
    <div class="">
      <p>"Your apology is accepted." There was a hint of humor to the old Shipmaster's voice. "Now, I believe you have a young charge to see to. You are dismissed, Blademaster."</p>
    </div>
    <div class="">
      <p>Khyl would have <em>preferred </em>to stay and talk the matter over further, but Xar was right; he'd left the young Spartan alone in his quarters too long already as it was, he realized with a growing sense of dismay. There was no telling what she'd gotten into, or what she might have destroyed - and there was <em>plenty </em>she could have damaged if she'd seen fit.</p>
    </div>
    <div class="">
      <p>So he rose to his feet, giving the Shipmaster a final deferential bow before departing.</p>
    </div>
    <div class="">
      <p>After a brief detour, Khyl returned to his quarters, with an armful of supplies and dread lingering in his gut. That dread was only reinforced when Nigatu lowered his head slightly to address him.</p>
    </div>
    <div class="">
      <p>"Your <em>human</em>," he rumbled, "attempted to escape."</p>
    </div>
    <div class="">
      <p>"Did she," Khyl replied dryly. "I take it she did not get far?"</p>
    </div>
    <div class="">
      <p>"Not far at all."</p>
    </div>
    <div class="">
      <p>Then it was Egiri's turn to speak up. "She retreated back inside on seeing us," he added, "I believe we startled her."</p>
    </div>
    <div class="">
      <p><em>Well, at least she's not running at large somewhere on the ship.</em> "And have you heard anything since?"</p>
    </div>
    <div class="">
      <p>"Nothing, Blademaster."</p>
    </div>
    <div class="">
      <p>"I see. Thank you." Khyl inclined his head to each of the brothers in turn, and then proceeded inside...</p>
    </div>
    <div class="">
      <p>...Where everything was just as he'd left it. Had he not been told that the girl had been out and about, he never would have been the wiser. A quick look into his bedroom further solidified the fact that, yes, everything was as it should be, and then...</p>
    </div>
    <div class="">
      <p>Quietly, he set the bundle he carried on the table and approached the corner where the girl had previously tucked herself away, finding her still curled there. She lay on her side, knees drawn up near her chest and head resting on one folded arm, and she seemed to be rather deeply asleep. He was almost loathe to disturb her, but he needed to see to the injuries she'd incurred in her escape attempt, and ensure that she ate <em>something</em>; she could sleep again afterward, if she so chose.</p>
    </div>
    <div class="">
      <p>So, very carefully, he reached out to nudge her awake.</p>
    </div>
  </div>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p></p><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="">
    <p>
      <em>The jungle seems to go on forever.</em>
    </p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>
      <em>She can't remember how long she's been running, or how far; the light hasn't changed for hours, still the exact same murky yellow-green that it was when...</em>
    </p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>
      <em>...when...</em>
    </p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>
      <em>...She's forgetting something. Something's wrong. Out of place.</em>
    </p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>
      <em>She stops running.</em>
    </p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>All around her, the jungle is silent except for her heavy breathing and a low, pervasive hum that she <strong>feels</strong> more than hears. Turning in place, she can see that everything is perfectly still, as well - nothing moves, not even the slightest bit. No breeze stirs the undergrowth, no sound breaks the crushing silence, except...</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>The sound of water rippling behind her catches her attention, and she turns sharply to find that the jungle has turned to swamp, even darker and more ominous than the sickly illumination filtering through the canopy. Water laps at her boots, encroaches, rises higher even as she backs away from it - first to her ankles, then her knees, then the murk is at her waist and rising up towards her shoulders even as the darkness swallows up the light.</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>She desperately wishes for it to return.</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>...At least, until the last fleeting rays illuminate a pair of nightmarish eyes watching her from the glassy surface. Slit-pupiled and emerald green, they stare hungrily as the water finally grows too deep to stand in, leaving her floundering to keep her head above the surface.</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>Her hand makes contact with a protruding, knobby root then, and she pulls herself up.</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>But instead of taking the breath she so desperately needs, she can only shriek as the creature lunges, its huge, wedge-shaped head seeming to split in two as its dagger-tooth-lined maw threatens to swallow her whole-</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <hr/>
</div><div class="">
  <p>With a ragged scream, Jeanette lurched awake and <em>immediately </em>lashed out at whatever was touching her, closing her jaws around what she thought was a hand and biting down as hard as she could. She tasted something bitter as the hand was yanked away, its owner hissing and cursing in pain, and she took the opportunity to vault away.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>...Or, rather, she <em>tried </em>to. A solid wall at her back kept her from getting far, and she could only press against it, breathing heavily as the fog of sleep cleared from her brain and she recollected her bearings. At first, her odd surroundings puzzled her, until her vision focused on the Elite kneeling nearby and everything clicked back into place. She'd thought - <em>hoped</em> - it had all been a dream, but... </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Growling and spitting out traces of bitter blood, Jeanette moved away from the alien. "Touch me again and I will take off your whole <em>finger</em>!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Oh, I don't doubt that at all," he rumbled, rubbing at the bite mark with one thumb; his <em>pride </em>was almost certainly hurt worse than his <em>hand</em>, but she felt accomplished nonetheless.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He sat back on his heel, and she practically hid behind the bench, hugging her knees tight to her chest. For a long moment, there was only silence between them.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Then, he leaned forward and extended his wounded hand to her. "Let me see your hands, little one."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"<em>No</em>!" She snapped, shrinking back with bared teeth; he did not withdraw.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"You were injured while trying to escape, were you not? I can help you."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>That made her falter... for a heartbeat.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Why would you be helping me," she demanded, "when you are only going to <em>kill </em>me anyway?!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The Elite blinked as if surprised, canting his head to the side. "I believe we already addressed this, but once again, <em>why</em> would I do such a thing?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Jeanette growled and all but launched herself to her feet in indignation; even so, she was <em>still </em>only at eye level with him as she curled her stinging hands into fists. "Don't treat me like I am <em>stupid</em>! You are - you are <em>Covenant</em>! <em>Killing humans</em> is what you <em>do</em>!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I am not trying to make you out to be a fool; what you say is true," he folded his hands on his knee; "but I do not intend to harm you. I mean to <em>help </em>you."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"You're <em>lying</em>."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Am I?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Pressing her back to the wall once more, she slid back down to the floor, glaring coldly at the Elite.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Tell me," he continued softly, "how many opportunities have I had to kill you? Or chain you up in a prison cell like some common captive? And yet here you are, still very much alive and free to move about-"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"-except for your pet <em>monsters </em>at the door to keep me inside-"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Egiri and Nigatu? <em>Monsters</em>?" He scoffed amusedly. "Hardly. They are there to keep trespassers <em>out</em>; they mean you no more harm than I do. You could meet them, if you'd like."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"<em>No</em>!" Jeanette's voice cracked and rose an octave, and she hid her face, trying to keep herself from shaking at the mere idea of seeing those - those <em>things</em> again. "Just - just leave me alone...!”</p>
  <p></p>
  <div class="">
    <p></p>
    <div class="">
      <p>The silence that followed was shortly broken by a quiet clicking sound, followed by a deep, soft rumble and the shifting of armor plates brushing against one another.</p>
    </div>
    <div class="">
      <p>"Ah, <em>there's </em>the fear under all that ferocity," the Elite's voice was low and sympathetic, but... it lacked the mocking tone she'd expected; "that's all right. It's perfectly understandable, after everything you've gone through."</p>
    </div>
    <div class="">
      <p>"Everything you <em>put me through</em>," she snarled back without looking up.</p>
    </div>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>"Was <em>I </em>the one who shut you up in that little cell and left you all alone in the dark? Who put you in the untenable position of either clawing your way free, or suffocating?" The questions were pointed, but gentle; it caught her off-guard. "No, it was not. I apologize for my Zealots' carelessness, however, and my own, as well as for my part in alarming you."</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>He was lying. He was <em>lying </em>and Jeanette was <em>sure </em>of it... and yet...</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>And yet he sounded so <em>sincere</em>.</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>But so had the ONI agent who’d collected her from the orphanage. So had the instructors at Currahee. Many people in her short life had <em>sounded </em>sincere, only to prove themselves <em>liars</em>.</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>She resisted the urge to look up, though, and just curled in on herself even more tightly, until the tension made her shoulders ache and tremble. All she wanted was for him to <em>go away</em>, for <em>all of this </em>to go away, for it all to be just another anesthesia nightmare.</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>But it wasn't. She knew it wasn't; this was no more a nightmare than the facility had been, or Onyx before that. And just as Onyx had been unspeakably worse than home, and the facility had been <em>unbearably </em>worse than Onyx, she was sure this would be even <em>worse</em>, and dreaded the horrors she <em>knew </em>awaited her in this new hell. She couldn't help but think back, again, to the bits and pieces of stories she'd heard traded between facility staff, of Elites rounding up civilians and then turning starved Grunts on them, or of Jackals and Brutes eating soldiers alive. She didn't think that <em>Elites </em>ate people, themselves, but she also wasn't terribly keen on finding out.</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>For a long stretch of time, it was quiet. Neither of them moved, or spoke, each just waited - but for what, she wasn't sure.</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>Finally, tentatively, she spoke up, still hiding her face. "Did they... did they really leave me?"</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>"I do not know," the Elite replied after a moment. "One ship was shot down mid-flight, but another was still moored when we made our approach. Someone may have <em>intended </em>to retrieve you, but their escape was... poorly executed. Perhaps it is for the best that it was terminated - you would have perished, otherwise."</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p><em>Would that have really been so bad?</em> Jeanette wondered.</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>"Don't pretend that you were meaning to <em>rescue </em>me," she muttered, "I <em>know </em>you weren't."</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>"No, that was not our intention. But when I learned that one of humanity's greatest warriors was garrisoned there, well... let's just say my curiosity got the better of me. Imagine my surprise when I found not a fearsome armored foe... but a young, frightened child, caged up like some captured beast."</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>Finally, Jeanette lifted her head just enough to look at him, briefly meeting his gaze.</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>
      <em>-a pair of nightmarish eyes watching her, slit-pupiled and emerald green and staring hungrily-</em>
    </p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>Recoiling again, she shook her head sharply, trying to push the dream from her memory. Then, with a resigned sigh, she begrudgingly held her left hand out, palm up.</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>"There we are..." he rumbled softly, coaxing her out of her corner; her hand was so ridiculously small compared to his own that it was almost comical, and she would have laughed if the situation were anything other than what it was. Instead, she pointedly looked away, fixing her gaze on the floor as she tucked her legs underneath her, and waited. She barely even breathed.</p>
    <p></p>
    <div class="">
      <p></p>
      <div class="">
        <p>Only a moment later, she felt a stinging sensation, followed by the slightest pinch; she almost yanked her hand back, but bit her lip and resisted the urge.</p>
      </div>
      <div class="">
        <p>It took her a moment to work up the courage to look over, and when she did, she saw the Elite pressing the blunt end of some kind of tool to her cuts. To her it looked like little more than a bulky, oversized stylus, except the tip was glassy and glowed a soft blue and, as he slowly traced it along the length of the wound, it... <em>healed </em>it. Soft tissue knit back together seamlessly in its wake, leaving no trace of the injury that had been there only moments before.</p>
      </div>
      <div class="">
        <p>It didn’t even leave a scar.</p>
      </div>
    </div>
    <div class="">
      <p>"...What <em>is </em>that?" Jeanette asked quietly.</p>
    </div>
    <div class="">
      <p>"Hm? Ah, this." He didn't look up from his work as he answered her. "<em>This</em> is a piece of Forerunner medical technology, rather useful for wounds that are <em>troublesome</em>, but not serious enough to warrant taking up the automated surgical suite."</p>
    </div>
    <div class="">
      <p>She shuddered, the phrase "automated surgical suite" sending chills down her spine as she wondered just how much more ONI would have put her through if they'd had such a thing at their disposal. It certainly sounded like exactly the kind of wicked implement they would make use of.</p>
    </div>
    <div class="">
      <p>"Are you a doctor, too, then?"</p>
    </div>
    <div class="">
      <p>He snorted, sounding almost amused again. "Far from it. No, this device is simple to use; even an <em>Unggoy </em>could operate it."</p>
    </div>
    <div class="">
      <p>Well, she had no idea what an "Unggoy" was, and "Forerunner" was only vaguely familiar to her, but she wasn't interested in asking for clarification. She settled for watching quietly as he finished mending her left hand, and then beckoned for her right - which she held out with slightly less reluctance, this time. The cuts in that hand were deeper and uglier, and stung more intensely as he cleaned them with a carefulness that belied his size... but they closed up just as cleanly and painlessly as the cuts in her left hand had.</p>
    </div>
    <div class="">
      <p>When he released her, she took a moment to examine her palms, curling and uncurling her fingers experimentally. There wasn't even the smallest twinge; it was as if she'd never been hurt at all.</p>
    </div>
    <div class="">
      <p>"..." Resting her hands on her knees, Jeanette looked away uncertainly. "I - thank you."</p>
    </div>
    <div class="">
      <p>"It is what I said I would do, is it not?" He once more sounded amused. "Do you have any other injuries?"</p>
    </div>
    <div class="">
      <p>She only shook her head in response; the headache still lingered, but she didn't think that his <em>stylus </em>could do anything for that, no matter how advanced and shiny it was. Then, with a sigh, she shifted her weight to the side and rested against the bench, fixing the Elite with a wary, unwavering gaze. He leaned in a bit closer, studying her curiously once more; the scrutiny made the back of her neck prickle, and her expression turned icy as her entire body tensed.</p>
    </div>
    <div class="">
      <p>But when he reached out to her, it was only to lightly trace the pad of his thumb along one of the angry red surgical scars that seamed her arms.</p>
    </div>
    <div class="">
      <p>"What of these?" He asked. Jeanette just flinched away, wrapping her arms around herself defensively.</p>
    </div>
    <div class="">
      <p>"They are only scars," she replied quickly, "they are old."</p>
    </div>
    <div class="">
      <p>"Old? They don't look particularly old to me."</p>
    </div>
    <div class="">
      <p>"I don't want to talk about it."</p>
    </div>
    <div class="">
      <p>"Hm. I see..."</p>
      <p></p>
      <div class="">
        <p></p>
        <div class="">
          <p>Jeanette very much <em>doubted </em>that, but she offered up no further argument... and he didn't press the issue further.</p>
        </div>
        <div class="">
          <p>Somehow, that struck her as odd. He was so much larger and far stronger than she was, he had the armor and the weapons, he had every advantage except <em>speed </em>- and a fine lot of good <em>that </em>did her in a place like <em>this</em>. He could have very <em>easily </em>forced her to cooperate, just like her handlers and the facility's medical staff always had; instead, he allowed her to refuse and withdraw. Maybe she'd just grown too accustomed to being dragged about, ordered this way and that and punished harshly for disobeying or even just <em>hesitating</em>, but... it didn't quite sit right with her.</p>
        </div>
      </div>
      <div class="">
        <p>She just couldn't puzzle out why a <em>Covenant soldier </em>- an obviously high-ranking one, at that - would be showing her this sort of kindness.</p>
      </div>
      <div class="">
        <p>And she was also too afraid to ask.</p>
      </div>
      <div class="">
        <p>Soundlessly, she scooted away until she could once more retreat back into the meager shelter of the corner; from there, she could hear the soft rattling of armor as the Elite stood, followed by his heavy footsteps as he crossed the room. Jeanette didn't even dare peek out to see what he might have been doing.</p>
      </div>
      <div class="">
        <p>She could only stare down at her hands, still bloodied but now unmarred by injury, and <em>wonder</em>.</p>
      </div>
      <div class="">
        <p>He could have killed her half a dozen times over by now. He <em>should </em>have killed her. There was <em>no reason</em> for her to still be alive. Everything about this situation was wrong. <em>Everything she'd ever learned</em> screamed at her that <em>this was wrong</em>, but what could she even <em>do</em>?</p>
      </div>
      <div class="">
        <p>
          <em>What do you </em>
          <strong>
            <em>want </em>
          </strong>
          <em>to do, Jeanette?</em>
        </p>
      </div>
      <div class="">
        <p>...She didn't even know the answer to her own question. Her mind reeled and churned and trying to make sense of everything only made her head ache even more and <em>she didn't know</em>.</p>
      </div>
      <div class="">
        <p>With a thin whine, she dropped her head to her hands and tangled her fingers in her short hair as she took several slow, deep breaths. She wanted to berate herself for her fearfulness, but it was so much <em>harder </em>to push the panic back now, so much harder to keep her thoughts focused when her <em>entire world</em> had just been upended.</p>
      </div>
      <div class="">
        <p>For the <em>third time </em>in the span of <em>one </em>day.</p>
      </div>
      <div class="">
        <p>The return of the Elite's footsteps yanked her back to alertness. This time, she <em>did </em>look up as he approached, just as he laid a neat bundle at the end of the bench nearest her, in easy reach. He lingered for just a moment before falling back again, just a step, as if waiting to see what she would do.</p>
      </div>
      <div class="">
        <p>Jeanette eyed first him, then the bundle... then slowly reached out to take it. Most of it was obviously blanket - one that made the one supplied by the facility look like a <em>threadbare towel </em>by comparison - but when two smaller objects started to slide off the top, she scrambled to catch them, and then stopped for a moment to examine what she now held.</p>
      </div>
      <div class="">
        <p>One was a sealed container of water, that much was obvious. The other was a surprisingly heavy square, about half again as thick as her palm and wrapped in some kind of thin foil. There was writing printed on one side, but she obviously couldn't <em>read</em> it, so she just looked questioningly at the Elite.</p>
      </div>
      <div class="">
        <p>"It is only a ration bar," he said reassuringly, with an expression that she read as a half-smile; "don't worry, they're safe for humans."</p>
      </div>
      <div class="">
        <p>"...How would you know?" She asked, wrinkling her nose.</p>
      </div>
      <div class="">
        <p>"A fair question. One I don't believe you would care to hear the answer to."</p>
      </div>
      <div class="">
        <p>His tone was gentle, but that couldn't hide the implications of his words. Looking down at the bar, Jeanette picked at a corner of the wrapper and frowned. "You fed them to prisoners."</p>
      </div>
      <div class="">
        <p>"Very astute of you, little one." He moved to sit on the bench, closer to the far end than to her, as if he didn't want to crowd her or make her feel cornered, but near enough to easily observe her. "Though I was not the one who fed them. That responsibility fell to others."</p>
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        <p>She chewed her lower lip, feeling a cold sensation spreading through her gut. "They taught us that the Covenant does not take prisoners."</p>
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        <p>"It has always been a rare, but unpleasant necessity. One dictated by the <em>Hierarchs</em>."</p>
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        <p>At that, she thought back to the Covenant prisoners that <em>ONI</em> had always seemed to be holding. The ones she'd seen picked apart in videos taken in sterile labs. The ones they'd interrogated at other facilities.</p>
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        <p>The ones they'd set her against on the live-fire ranges to test and sharpen her skills, even <em>before </em>her augmentations.</p>
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        <p>She understood. And she recoiled, anyway, because one act of cruelty didn't diminish another. Setting the food and water aside, she scooped the still-folded blanket up and buried her face in the thick material.</p>
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        <p>"But you are <em>not </em>a prisoner," he continued quietly, "that has not changed. Your well-being <em>is </em>my responsibility. You have nothing to fear from me, little one, you have my word."</p>
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        <p>How many people, she wondered bitterly, had said those same four words to her, only to go back on them later? But she swallowed the resentment; it wouldn't do her any good here, now.</p>
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        <p>"...Jeanette," she said after a moment, her voice muffled by the blanket; she lifted her head just a bit, enough to speak clearly. "My name - my name is Jeanette."</p>
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        <p>"Such an interesting name, <em>Jeanette</em>." He slurred the "j" into a soft "z" the same way she did; it was slightly disorienting to hear from an alien mouth. "I’ve not heard one like it before. I am Blademaster Khyl 'Voramai, and it is an honor to make your acquaintance."</p>
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        <p>Somehow, she couldn’t bring herself to believe <em>that</em>, either.</p>
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